


blossom of snow

by softshocks



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Sound of Music AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26119498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softshocks/pseuds/softshocks
Summary: “You must be Kim Yoohyeon,” is the first thing she says, and her voice is deep, matching exactly her posture and her expression.Yoohyeon doesn’t have to guess that this is Major Lee Yubin, in the flesh.
Relationships: Kim Yoohyeon/Lee Yoobin | Dami
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43
Collections: Girl Group Jukebox - Mixtape Round





	blossom of snow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for gg jukebox, inspired by edelweiss sung by charmian carr and bill lee, and sound of music by sung by julie andrews
> 
> For the worms-on-a-string on my brain (ephe, miel, nat)
> 
> Come say hi, I'm @hausofbora on twitter!
> 
> Stream boca on genie, bugs, and youtube + collect stars/hearts so we can get them their first win!

The breeze is cool against her skin as she sheds her shoes. The alps, especially at this time, have always been her favorite.

The sight of the mountains, the green of the grass, the early morning dew drops against her bare feet. The alps have always been so kind to her. 

Everything feels alive to Yoohyeon. An ancient song she hears in her ears, something nature has taught her, and now her heart feels the melody.

Yoohyeon inhales, feeling the fresh air down to her toes. 

The abbey has been stuffy as of late, and she just needed to escape - just for a moment. And she does find refuge in the trails of water, the chirping of the birds, the way the air still has enough water to have the same dew drops on her nose. 

She sings a tune, so familiar, and watches as the alps disappear into the horizon, feeling an incredible calmness. 

Yoohyeon has a few moments of this peace, and she revels in it. Then, it’s shattered by the telltale bells that reach even the tops of this hill.

“Oh!” She exclaims, making a run for it, her legs taking her down the hill, her wimple, and her shoes in her hands. 

She’s late.

Again. 

-

The doxology is starting, and Yoohyeon has her wimple on already even if her shoes are probably mismatched. 

(They are.) 

She runs across the plaza of the abbey, her footsteps echoing loudly. Yoohyeon is making too much noise, but she doesn’t care. She just has to get inside the cathedral. 

Too preoccupied with running to the cathedral, she rushes past the Reverend Mother on the way. Yoohyeon says hello, continues running - wow, Mother looks really nice today and -

 _Oh._

Yoohyeon skids to a stop, backtracks a few steps until she’s in front of Reverend Mother, who waits patiently despite the fond, exasperated face that Yoohyeon sees a lot from her. 

“Reverend Mother,” she says, her heart racing from the run and knowing that she may be in trouble. Again. “Good morning. Lord be with you.” 

Again.

“Rachel,” Reverend Mother replies, voice calm, soothing. Everyone else addresses her as Yoohyeon, except her - opting for Yoohyeon’s baptismal name. Yoohyeon doesn’t mind at all. Her hands underneath her habit as they always are. Yoohyeon can never pick up the practice. “Would you like to join me for a walk?” 

The apologies tumble out of Yoohyeon’s lips before she knows it. “Reverend Mother, I can explain,” she says, “the sun was out and lovely and the gates were open and I just wanted to see the alps because it’s been raining nonstop and -”

A hand stops her. “You needn’t explain to me,” she explains, “I had just wanted to speak with you about something.” 

That does nothing to calm the thundering of Yoohyeon’s heart. Their footsteps echo as they walk the grounds alone, everyone preoccupied with the morning doxology that Reverend Mother should be attending. 

“You know, when we took you in when you were a child seeking shelter, we did not expect you to be one of us when you grew into the lovely young lady you are today,” Reverend Mother tells her, tone fond. “We were ecstatic when you told us, yet worried because we were not sure if this was the life for you.” 

Yoohyeon knows what everyone - novices, especially - says about her. 

_Yoohyeon’s knees are skinned again. Yooohyeon’s habit has a tear in it. She’s late to prayers. She’s singing in the abbey. She’s always been an odd one._

“We raised you, and we love you. That is why we worry.”

It’s true. The only child of a Korean ranked official in the foreign land of Salzburg, Austria - her father had passed away when she was a baby, with no mother to leave her to. In his last moments, he had instructed her to be brought to the abbey, to the Mother Reverend, a close friend of her father’s. 

She holds no interest in connecting with that part of her life anymore. Yoohyeon was perfectly happy in this abbey, despite so many of its inhabitants considering her a troublemaker. 

And now, with the way this conversation is turning, Yoohyeon worries for the worst. 

“The mistress of novices and the mistress of postulants have been speaking of encouraging some time away from the abbey.” 

Yoohyeon’s stomach sinks, but it sinks even further had it been possible. “Please don’t make me leave,” she pleads, and she sees the determination in Reverend Mother’s eyes waver. “I want to be with all of you. I love this life. I’m happy.” 

Reverend Mother sighs. “Rachel, if you were happy, you would not be causing this much trouble. We only worry this is not where you are supposed to be when you can be flourishing elsewhere.” 

Yoohyeon opens her mouth to argue, but another hand is held up. “Rachel. _Yoohyeon,_ ” she uses her real name firmly, and that does the trick to quiet her rebuttals. “Give this a chance.” 

She sighs. There seems to be no room for arguments. 

“Where shall I go?” Yoohyeon asks. This was the life she knows even if she isn’t very good at living it. 

But she’s trying. _It matters that she keeps trying._

They stop at the gate, overlooking the gorgeous city of Salzburg from the high place the abbey resides on. 

“There is a family at the edge of the city that is in need of a governess,” Reverend Mother explains. “Seven children.” 

That piques Yoohyeon’s curiosity. “ _Seven!?”_

“You like children, is that correct?” 

That’s true, but… “Seven children… goodness.” 

“They are all orphans of the war,” continues the Reverend Mother. “Adopted by an early-retired Major from the navy. She had left the war, unwilling to fight it. Korean, just like you. She had come to live here in the home of her late parents, using the wealth from the war to support the children. A brave, young woman with a good soul. Your age, actually. She is having some… trouble seeking a governess.” 

Yoohyeon tilts her head. “Why?”

Reverend Mother chuckles, turning away from the gate. “In God’s time, you’ll see.” Yoohyeon follows her, knowing the discussion isn’t over, but understanding that she will be leaving soonest as the Reverend Mother and the mistresses of the abbey wish. “Take this opportunity to see the world, my child. Then come back and let us know what you have discovered.” 

Sighing, Yoohyeon nods. Reverend Mother knew best, and she had only ever wanted what was good for her. 

The Reverend Mother smiles, somewhat somberly, but she has a hand on Yoohyeon’s back. “I will let Major Lee Yubin know you are arriving in three days’ time.” 

-

The only things Yoohyeon brings are the suitcase of her minimal belongings and her beloved guitar, gifted to her by the mistresses of the abbey at the age of sixteen. 

She looks up at the abbey’s old but lovely structures. The sights she had known for as long as she’s been alive. 

It’s hard to let go, even if her heart longs for adventure. 

This is what she had secretly wanted, pushed to the furthest recesses of her mind. It’s so exciting, but it mixes uncomfortably with uncertainty. 

Now she has it… why does she hesitate? 

The walk to the bus is spent wading in her own puddles of nervous energy. She boards it, watching the lovely city of Salzburg rolling out. It was always such a lovely city. 

Her thoughts drift to the family she’ll be residing with. What would these children think of her? What would Major Lee Yubin even say? 

Would she cause trouble, even there?

“A captain with seven children...” Yoohyeon murmurs, tightening her grip on her guitar. They pass the fountain at Mirabell Palace, bright and golden and also blue. Yoohyeon smiles, knows she’ll be seeing more of it soon. 

_What’s so fearsome about that?_

-

The gates to Major Lee Yubin’s manor are tall and intimidating. 

Yoohyeon stares up at its metal railings, wondering if the woman who owned the home was the same, too. 

The confidence she had been slowly feeding herself fades away, and Yoohyeon grips the handle of her guitar case and her luggage. 

She isn’t perfect — far from it, but she definitely does have the attitude.

Pushing past the gate, walking and admiring the lovely place from the garden and the fountain that sits right in front of the main door, to the several cars that Yoohyeon can’t seem to recognize.

Some looked like they were from the war, but the others looked so expensive Yoohyeon doesn’t even dare come near them. 

She takes a deep breath, willing the pace of her heart to slow, and sets down her belongings to ring the doorbell. 

_I have confidence in me,_ she mutters, and by the grace of God, it helps despite the trembling of her hands.

A woman answers the door, her white hair in a bun, raising a brow at her, inspecting Yoohyeon as she stands outside, waiting. 

“Ah,” she says, tripping over her own German even if she has spoken it for years. It’s her mother tongue, now, more so than Korean - but she made it a point to learn and practice, still, to keep her roots. “Hello. I’m the new governess, Yoohyeon.”

The woman seems surprised that Yoohyeon speaks fluent German, but she says nothing, only stepping aside to let her in.

The foyer is massive. The ceiling is high, and the house is decorated with paintings, gorgeous rugs, and vases on lacquered mahogany tables. The woman, who is the mistress of housekeeping, tells her to wait for the Major.

Left alone, Yoohyeon, despite her height, starts to feel small. This house is massive, even for a family of eight and the staff. Major Lee Yubin’s family must have been rich. 

There’s a door left open to her left, and Yoohyeon’s curiosity gets the best of her - as it always does. She walks closer, pushing it open, and it takes Yoohyeon to this vast ballroom. 

Its walls are painted with the finest prints of rococo that she recognizes, with gold embossed around it. The room is dark, but the light that passes through its floor-to-ceiling windows is enough to illuminate the room. 

It’s so magical. She can’t even imagine how it would look in the evenings, but if Yoohyeon is lucky enough, she might get to see it. 

Yoohyeon is the only one there, and so she curtsies, pretends that she had been invited to a prestigious party. Her friends had invited her when she was older, but life as a novice never allowed it. 

Outside are perfectly maintained hedges that are almost twice her size, and polished marble flooring. But before Yoohyeon can push through the door leading outside, someone clears their throat.

That shatters the moment, and Yoohyeon whips around so fast her head spins. 

At the door, a woman stands - stiff, commandeering, intimidating. She’s dressed in a three-piece suit visibly tailored for her, and she watches Yoohyeon sternly despite keeping her neutral, disinterested face. 

(A handsome face, nonetheless, but Yoohyeon doesn’t have time to process that because it's as if ice washes over her at the realization.) 

“You must be Kim Yoohyeon,” is the first thing she says, and her voice is deep, matching exactly her posture and her expression. 

Yoohyeon doesn’t have to guess that this is Major Lee Yubin, in the flesh. 

There is a beat of silence. For all the things she can possibly say or do, Yoohyeon can’t move, can’t talk. 

“Outside,” the Major says firmly, and Yoohyeon can’t help but follow. 

Yoohyeon is good at apologies, and they tumble out of her mouth before she even realizes it after she hurries outside. “Major, I’m so sorry, your house is so lovely and I just had to—”

“That’s enough,” the Major tells her, and again, Yoohyeon follows even if she’s slightly miffed by the interruption. 

She may be a ranked official - even if allegedly retired - but she should treat Yoohyeon with the respect she seems to demand. 

Still, her back is ramrod straight as the Major stands in front of her, inspecting her as if she were an officer under her ranks. She’s small but commands attention. 

“You must be Major Lee Yubin,” she jokes, out of nerves. The Major hums, turning away. “Ma’am. I mean—Major. I mean—”

Pained, Yubin looks back at her. “Yubin is just fine.” 

_Yubin._

“Welcome to my home,” she says, hands behind her back. “I'd appreciate it if you do not look around in places where you are not supposed to. You have had no experience being a governess, have you, Miss Kim?” 

“Oh, no, no, no,” Yoohyeon tells her, honestly. She can’t have her expecting her to be the best governess of all time. 

“Hmm. That’ll do.” She turns sharply, facing the balcony where there are several rooms lining the hallway before the staircase. Yubin takes the whistle that Yoohyeon didn’t even notice, puts it in her mouth, and blows a pattern that hurts Yoohyeon’s ears. 

Seven children emerge, scrambling out, then lining up. To Yoohyeon’s horror, they march in sync, down the stairs until they’re lined up in front of Yoohyeon like soldiers. 

“Children,” she addresses them, “meet your new governess, Miss Yoohyeon. Introduce yourselves, please.” 

They seem to be arranged by age. The eldest goes first, marching forward then back. “My name is Ilse. I am sixteen. I don’t need a governess.” 

Yoohyeon laughs. “Well, then. I think you can take care of yourself just fine.” 

Ilse gives her a puzzled look, but Yoohyeon’s attention is already on the rest that follows. 

_Henri, fourteen, everyone says I’m incorrigible. What does that mean?_

_Dorothea, twelve, I’d like to become a singer one day._

_Anita, ten, why are your clothes like that?_

_Johann, seven, I like dressing up in my sister’s clothing sometimes._

_Astrid, seven, I like dressing up in my brother’s clothing sometimes._

_Margit, five and a half, will you stay, Miss Yoohyeon?_

“They are to attend home school five days a week, and go about recreational activities on Saturdays and Sundays,” Yubin explains, walking in front of them like an officer. She adjusts Johann’s small tie and dusts off Anita’s shoulder. “At seven, we have supper together but if I am not home by then, go on without me. At nine, they must be in bed.” 

She turns to Yoohyeon stiffly. “Is that understood, Yoohyeon?” 

She salutes, but it’s not appreciated. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Yubin raises a brow at her, but she looks at the children. “I’d best be preparing for my trip after supper but I’ll leave you to be acquainted.” 

That gets a reaction from the children, a collection of “aww, Yubin, not again!” coming from each of them. 

Yubin frowns. “Only for a few days to meet your Aunts Siyeon and Bora. You have Miss Yoohyeon to keep you company.” She turns to Yoohyeon. “If you need anything, let Frau Helene know.”

They sulk, but the promise of seeing the people the young major mentions is enough to keep their chins up. Yubin bids them goodbye. It seems as if they want to hug her, but she keeps her distance anyway. Yubin only waves, leaving Yoohyeon to deal with seven pouting siblings in the estate’s massive foyer.

Yoohyeon stands in front of the children, who remain stiff with their stances. 

“Uh,” she begins. “At ease.” 

Then they relax. 

_Huh._

There’s a few beats of silence that pass, until Yoohyeon speaks. “Wait, let me make sure I got your names right.” She nods, starting from the left. “Ilse, Henri, Dorothea, Anita, Johann, Astrid, Margit. It’s lovely to meet you. All of you.” 

There’s an awkward pause. The children look at each other, unsure of how to proceed. It seems as if it’s the first time anyone has ever gotten their names right. 

Yoohyeon clears her throat, trying to fill the silence. “You’ll have to, um, teach me how to be a governess. I’m not very sure how to.” 

That piques Johann’s attention. “You mean you’ve never been a governess before?” 

When Yoohyeon nods, the children share looks she can’t decipher. Then they circle her, approaching Yoohyeon slowly. “Oh,” Henri begins. “It means letting us sleep whatever time we want no matter what Yubin says.”

“And we can skip school when we don’t feel like it!” 

“And Miss Yoohyeon, you _must_ always be late for supper -”

Yoohyeon can’t say anything, because the kids are surrounding her, so she laughs nervously, shrinking into herself until Frau Helene calls all of their attention. 

“Children, children!” She exclaims, seeing the commotion. “Time for your daily walk now, come along. Yubin would want you to follow the rules.”

They pull away, thankfully, and Yoohyeon can breathe again as the children walk away in a line, looking positively chastised. 

“Apologies,” Frau Helene tells her, offering to carry Yoohyeon’s bag but Yoohyeon doesn’t let her. “They’re wonderful children, but they are quite a handful.” 

Yoohyeon frowns at that. Children should be allowed to be children, even if a bit mischievous. “I think they’re lovely,” Yoohyeon says, then something moves in her pocket. 

Panic rises to her throat when a tiny toad hops out of her pocket. She lets out a yelp, setting the creature free to hop across the floor. Her heart races, and she clutches it as the children watch, then start walking to leave the home for their daily sunshine. 

“You’re lucky. The last one had a snake in her pocket.” 

_Children should be allowed to be children,_ she repeats, and prays a little bit to the Lord to give her strength. 

-

Yoohyeon manages to _not_ be late for supper, and they’re all seated together, in relative silence. 

Before they start, however, Yoohyeon takes the opportunity to speak. She holds Yubin’s title, thankfully, and says: “Yubin, I’d like to thank the children for their warm welcome this morning.” 

Yubin looks up from her soup, puzzled, saying nothing. “Oh, um…” 

It’s not hard to sound earnest, because it’s always something that Yoohyeon has been painfully good at. “I appreciate them taking the time to make me feel like I belong to this house. I barely have the experience, all things considered,” she says lightly, taking a drink from her water when she notices Margit and Astrid lowering their heads, Johann and Anita following suit. “Being in a new environment and all, it’s terrifying. So this morning’s meeting was lovely and makes me want to stay all the more.” 

The latter part is what does them in. The younger ones break into sobs, not meeting Yoohyeon’s eyes, and she takes a spoonful of her food as the children’s cries fill the room. The older kids tear up, their heads down and hands on their laps. 

Bewildered, Yubin looks around, her eyes wide, but she maintains her composure as Yoohyeon continues. “Yoohyeon,” she says, nonplussed. “Is this going to be… a regular occurrence for supper?” 

Yoohyeon shrugs. “Oh, I’m not so sure. Maybe if they ever welcome me like that again, it might be.” 

The crying gets louder, matching the storm raging outside, and it takes half of Yoohyeon’s meal to make it stop. 

-

Her room is most likely one of the smaller ones in this massive house, but it’s still bigger and more luxurious than her own room back in the abbey. 

A quaint thing, but decorated with expensive drapes and a duvet thicker than anything Yoohyeon has ever seen. She places her belongings in the cabinets that smell like lavender and leaves so much more space inside them. 

Outside, the storm rages, thunderclaps rattling the windows open once every few minutes. Yoohyeon rushes over to close them again before the rain gets in, then settles under the heavy sheets with one book she borrowed from the home’s collection that Yubin had given her access to. 

(“Feel free to borrow any of those,” Yubin tells her, and it’s less stern than the voice she’d heard at the ballroom. Still uptight, but less so. 

“Have you read them?” Asks Yoohyeon, her hands touching the leather spines of Dostoevsky’s collection. 

Yubin looks proud when she replies with an, “of course. They wouldn’t be there if I haven’t.”) 

That is, until there’s an incessant knocking on her window. 

She’s on the second floor. 

Yoohyeon dashes towards it, holding her fists up and draws the curtain to see Ilse, drenched in mud and rain, waving at her and begging to be let in. 

So Yoohyeon does, and Ilse tumbles right in, dripping on the carpeted flooring of Yoohyeon’s room. 

The young girl opens her mouth to explain, but Yoohyeon tosses a towel at her. “Dry off and change before you catch your death, and then we can talk.” 

Ilse follows, her head bowed, tail between her legs. 

“Are you going to tell Yubin?” is the first thing that Ilse asks once she steps out in fresh clothing, her long, brown hair limp with water from the shower. 

Yoohyeon looks up from her book as a loud clap of thunder rings through the sky. “Will she be cross?” 

Ilse nods. “I was grounded for three weeks, last time.” 

Yoohyeon sighs, beckoning Ilse to sit by the bed. “Just this once but you have to promise that you’ll be careful, understand? No more getting drenched in the rain. Or climbing up windows.” She doubts if she’ll ever carry through with actually telling Yubin if it happens again, but she chooses not to tell Ilse, who lights up at Yoohyeon letting it slide for now. “What were you even doing outside in this weather?” 

The eldest hesitates, chewing the inside of her cheek, then blushes. “I wanted to see my… friend. She’s the daughter of Yubin’s old boss’s stablemaster. Sometimes she delivers our mail.” A blush crawls up Ilse’s neck and up her cheeks, and she tries to hide her face. Yoohyeon gets her to talk about it, and she melts at young, teenage love. 

“Why would Yubin be upset if she found out?” 

Ilse lies back down on Yoohyeon’s bed, shrugging. “Safety, and all.” 

“But she’s right.” 

“It’s the only time that Inka and I can see each other,” she pouts, picking the sheets. “I wish Yubin didn’t treat me like a child when it was convenient for her. She treats us like adults, most of the time.” 

“Oh?” Yoohyeon replies, intrigued. She’d been meaning to know what the children thought of _the_ Major Lee Yubin. “How do you feel about that?”

“Annoyed, but I know she cares about us. We’re a handful, and no one really stayed save for her. She makes sure to take care of us, even if she doesn’t always know how to,” Ilse pulls a thread, shrugging to make light of something that seems a bit heavy, and Yoohyeon knows that sometimes the eldest holds these burdens on their own. “She does so many things out of duty because of how she was raised, but keeping us around is something Yubin loves, I think.” 

Ilse smiles, a soft, small one. She’s a teenager, but certainly wiser than most her age. “She didn’t have to take us in, but she did.” 

It sets Yoohyeon’s heart at ease that the icy Major Lee Yubin had an incomparable warmth underneath all of that. 

There’s another flash of lightning, followed by a loud clap of thunder. It surprises even Yoohyeon, and she hears the sound of footsteps running across the hallway. Then she’s greeted by the sight of Astrid, Margit, Anita, and Johann standing by her door, catching their breath. 

“They’re afraid of thunder,” Ilse explains, and Yoohyeon has no choice but to beckon them closer. 

“Alright, kids, stay here,” Yoohyeon taps the surface of the bed and they run, prompted by the thunder ripping from the sky again. 

There are more footsteps, and they all look to the door to see Dorothea and Henri also catching their breath. 

“Also afraid?” Yoohyeon laughs, and Henri puffs his chest even if he walks closer to his siblings. Dorothea doesn’t even deny it. 

“Why is there thunder?” Margit asks, her voice small. She huddles closest to Yoohyeon, and trembles when another one shakes the windows with the rain. 

“Well,” Yoohyeon begins, trying her best to simplify the phenomenon. “You see the light that happens before the sound? The sound happens because the air in the sky tries to open the door for the light.” 

She isn’t sure if they understood, but they nod, Margit snuggling closer when another round of thunder scares them. 

“You know, when I’m afraid, I just think of… the things I like,” Yoohyeon begins. “It helps me forget I’m scared.” 

Anita looks up at her with her doe eyes and Yoohyeon can’t help but be attached to these children already. “Really? Like what, Miss Yoohyeon?” 

She taps her chin, thinking. “Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, those are really adorable. They make me happy.” 

Dorothea pipes up. “I like those, too!” She laughs. “Tell us more!” 

Smiling, Yoohyeon keeps going. “Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. What about you?”

“My favorite song, and brown paper packages tied up with string!” 

The children follow, sounding off each of their favorite things. Ilse, with cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels. Henri, with doorbells and Frau Helene’s schnitzels with noodles. Dorothea, again, with wild geese that fly, with the moon on their wings. Anita, with white clothing and blue sashes. Johann, with snowflakes that stay on his nose and eyelashes. Margit, with the morning that the snow melts into spring. 

They’re laughing and making a lot of noise, the thunder forgotten outside. At one point, they play around with the pillows and on the bed, that Yoohyeon doesn’t even notice the new presence in the room.

Everyone freezes, save for Yoohyeon, whose body nearly crashes into Yubin - dressed to the nines for her trip. 

Her heart drops, even if Yubin doesn’t look angry. 

Only... the usual disappointment. Displeasure. The cacophony has died down, silence replacing the noise they’ve been making.

“Children,” she says, quietly. “I’ll be leaving.” 

They nod, and without having to say anything, they make their leave, filing out of the room. 

Margit, however, is the last one out. She looks up at Yubin, tugging at the coat of her suit. “Can I hug you?”

Yubin softens, and Yoohyeon does, too, at the sight. 

“Of course, darling. Thank you for asking.” She takes Margit, lifting her to her hip so they’re eye to eye. The little girl has her arms around Yubin. “Did you practice reading today?” 

Margit nods into Yubin’s neck. 

“Perhaps Miss Yoohyeon over there can help, if you want.”

She nods again, and Yubin runs her hand through Margit’s short, blonde hair. “I’ll be back before you even know it, and with Aunt Bora and Aunt Siyeon if they can.” 

She turns her attention to Yoohyeon, and gives a quick wave. “We will talk about the strict compliance with bedtime rules upon my return, Miss Yoohyeon,” Yubin tells her, pulling Margit closely to carry the little girl that’s about to fall asleep. “Farewell.”

Yoohyeon can only wave before Yubin walks away to tuck Margit in bed. She watches as Yubin lulls her to sleep, and thinks: _underneath all that, Major Lee Yubin has a heart._

-

The children take a liking to her, and it shows. No more pranks, no more rudeness, no more trying to get Yoohyeon to leave. 

They’re a rowdy bunch, but they were just being children, and it’s as if they were savoring every moment they can to do so, with Yoohyeon. 

She, too, takes a liking to them. 

It’s not hard when Yoohyeon sees Ilse writing letters to the stablemaster’s daughter, when Henri and Margit feed the fishes in their home, when Anita and Johann dress as each other to confuse the house staff, and when Dorothea hums songs she had written but never finished. 

Yoohyeon makes sure to follow the rules Yubin has set, but she also makes sure the children have time to be the children they are, even just for a little while. 

She watches them play, remembers her childhood in the abbey, and at the town with other orphans. Her life in the convent was exactly what it was growing up, but the life outside it was vibrant and bright. 

Maybe life in the abbey hadn’t been for her, in the first place. 

Henri pulls Yoohyeon to her feet to play tag, and Yoohyeon is given another reason to reconsider her return as a novice. 

-

The children are fast asleep after a tiring day of homeschool and recreation that Yoohyeon had decided to improve. 

They’d missed supper eating berries all day, all retiring to their rooms soon after to sleep it off. Yoohyeon had tucked them in, then headed to the dining hall alone. 

Outside, a car peels to the front area of the home, with the staff assisting the arrival to unload what Yoohyeon thinks is Yubin’s belongings for her trip. There’s no one else that seems to be talking, so Yoohyeon deduces that her friends did not join her for a visit, pursing her lips at the thought of their disappointment that their Aunt Bora and Aunt Siyeon did not visit this weekend.

She eats her supper in silence save for the gentle clanking of the silverware against the porcelain, and the flipping of pages. Then it’s accompanied by brief, urgent steps that are too brief and urgent for this hour. 

It stops, and Yoohyeon looks up to be met with the sight of Yubin in a rather dressed down version of her military uniform, observing her. 

Of course, her first words are: “did the children miss dinner?” 

Yoohyeon lies, and she apologizes to the Lord briefly for it. “No, they were just tired and slept right after.” 

It is obvious Yubin doesn’t buy it, but she says nothing except bid Yoohyeon a good night. 

She _should_ say good night, so it escapes her why her mouth decides to ask: “so how was your trip?”

That makes Yubin stop in her tracks, turning back to her. “Um, it was alright,” she replies, unsure what to say and Yoohyeon wants to smack herself in the head. “The… the general wants me back in the battalion should anything happen with the negotiations.” 

Hesitation bleeds from Yubin’s tone, so she doesn’t press. She suspects that it’s because of the growing tensions in Austrian politics. From what Yoohyeon knows, an annexation seemed to be on the horizon, and she wouldn’t know what to do should it take place. 

She doesn’t think Yubin would continue, but Yubin does. “I’m afraid if the annexation happens, I would be serving… vile people,” she says, anger, disgust coloring her tone. It’s exactly as Yoohyeon feels, and it is so familiar. “I can never live with that.” 

Yoohyeon nods. “I understand,” she says, partially true because she knows that the Major had a good heart, even if it’s sheathed in ice for her own reasons that Yoohyeon may never know. “Thank you, Major.” 

Yubin raises a brow at that. “For what?” 

“For doing what you think is right,” replies Yoohyeon, simply. 

There’s a beat of silence, what Yoohyeon thinks is a slight coloring of Yubin’s cheeks - though it can surely be from the dim lighting of the hallway, and the crisp night air outside. 

“Good night, Miss Yoohyeon,” Yubin says, giving her a shallow bow. “I will see you and the children in the morning.”

-

“Yubin!” They greet, seeing her at the dining table early in the morning, falling out of their lines to see her, and Yubin, smiling wider than Yoohyeon has ever seen, welcomes the hugs.

“How was your trip!”

“Did you find any nice toys?”

“What did you get us this time?”

They forget, for a moment, to ask where Aunt Bora and Siyeon are, to embrace the Major - who looks crushed in their embraces, seemingly at a crossroads to decide if she should scold them or just enjoy the embrace.

The latter wins out. 

Yoohyeon watches as she embraces them, too. 

-

Supper, which had always been a quiet affair, is now lively with conversation. Yoohyeon doesn’t exactly remember how it happens, but they’re talking and sharing about their days and what they had learned, and Yubin receives it as well as she can. 

It’s stiff, her participation, until they realize that she prefers hearing about their day than talking about hers when Yoohyeon lets them know as she tucking them into bed at night. 

(“Yubin is quiet when we ask about her day,” Johann tells her. 

“Maybe she likes hearing about yours,” she replies, and he purses his lips, agreeing.) 

Sometimes, it’s the two of them, when Yoohyeon sees to it that the eight PM lights off is observed (while Yubin is around, anyway). Yoohyeon and Yubin, sitting together at the dinner table, sharing a bowl of fruit or ice cream. 

During these moments of reprieve from the daily life in the household, Yoohyeon uncovers parts of Major Lee Yubin she did not think she ever would. 

Yubin had a quiet, tense childhood, raised by a military father and a stern mother. Her childhood was bland, dull, and everything she had ever known. She finds out when Yoohyeon talked about childhood in the abbey. That the nuns allowed her a life outside, to be a child. Yubin listens, somewhat wistfully - Yoohyeon can see it in her eyes. 

(“The Benedictines were strict, they always have been,” Yoohyeon says, picking at the strawberry the children have picked out from the market. “But they let me be a child. A happy one.” 

Yubin smiles - a rare, small one, and Yoohyeon realizes she likes smiles on the stoic Major Lee Yubin. “Maybe that’s why they adore you so much.” 

“They love you too, you know,” Yoohyeon assures her. “It’s… sometimes a bit difficult to express it. For both of you.”

Now, the smile on her face is downtrodden. “I know,” she sighs, another rare display of emotion that’s washed away before Yoohyeon can get used to it. “I know.”)

It’s during these late moments that Yoohyeon finds out how exactly Yubin finds the children. 

They had been fighting on civilian ground, and Yubin was leading a battalion to reach the orphanage before it was taken and God would have known what happened. Under her leadership, they defended it from being annexed, and all the children were safe. 

With the orphanage no longer a safe zone, the children must be relocated, to be taken care of by different orphanages now that this one was to be dissolved until further notice. 

The seven siblings did not want to be separated. Yubin took them in, without even considering her significant lack of experience in raising children, much more seven of them. 

She was unprepared, which can be guaranteed, but she _was_ trying. Supporting the children, providing their needs and wants (the latter something Yubin still struggles with). 

“I only want what’s best for them, and their safety,” Yubin says. “These are terrifying times to live in.” 

Yoohyeon agrees. She, too, worries for the children. What kind of world were they living in? Growing up in? 

The answer terrifies them, and they both know. 

But it’s in these few, brief moments of after-supper that Yoohyeon shares with Yubin that the walls are somewhat more permeable than usual, that she finds strength. 

(And attraction, though she chooses to ignore that for the sake of her sanity.)

-

Yubin is called again, back to headquarters, and she leaves for the capital, promising once more to the children to bring their Aunt Bora and Aunt Siyeon this time around.

Yoohyeon takes the opportunity to dress them in their best outdoor clothing to trek up the alps today, and for a group of Austrian children, it’s their first time to see the sight of the mountains that have called out to Yoohyeon since she learned how to walk. 

They run around and frolic, having taken off their shoes. Yoohyeon watches them until she’s passed the ball and roped into a game. 

Dorothea, the one always filling Yoohyeon in with lighthearted gossip - always too perceptive of her surroundings - passes the ball to Henri as she stands beside Yoohyeon.“I think Yubin is planning to propose to Aunt Bora.” 

Yoohyeon raises a brow, anticipating if Henri was going to throw the ball her way. “How do you feel about that?” 

Anita sits down, tired from the game, and everyone follows. “It’s okay. I like Auntie Bora. She’s funny and pretty and takes care of us when she's here.” She touches the flower at her feet so gently, in a way that Yoohyeon knows only she is capable of. “I think Auntie Bora’s parents want her to marry Yubin.” 

Dorothea sits beside Yoohyeon, picking at the sleeve of her dress. “I wish Yubin would marry someone she loves.” She says, not meeting Yoohyeon’s eyes. “I think she loves Aunt Bora, though maybe not _that_ way.” 

(Dorothea leans in to whisper: “not in the way she loves Aunt Siyeon.” Yoohyeon taps her hand in admonishment. No one can hide anything from this girl.)

Yoohyeon looks over to Ilse, and remembers their talk about Yubin’s unwavering loyalty to duty in almost everything. “I see. Does it matter that Yubin loves her? Even if your Aunt Bora takes care of you?” 

They all nod. Henri says, “We want Yubin to be happy, too.” 

She doesn’t need to tell anyone that her eyes mist over at the quiet admission. 

“Okay, well, why don’t we do something nice for them when they arrive?” Yoohyeon smiles, taking her trusted guitar out of its case. “Sing a song?” 

“Only Dorothea sings,” Margit says, taking residence on Yoohyeon’s right leg. 

“We never had formal lessons,” Astrid supplies, but she’s interested. “Dorothea tried, but… it’s hard!” 

She sets Margit aside gently to tuck the guitar under her arm, its curve on her leg, tuning it. She’d missed this. Music has always been something she loved, having been part of the choir, and the choir’s accompaniment during services. 

“Do you know the basics, like Do Re Mi?” Yoohyeon asks, and half of them say yes while the others say otherwise. Yoohyeon places her finger on the C fret and plays it. “Alright, let me teach you.” 

The children pick it up, and Yoohyeon finds out they have the voices of angels. It makes a tear leak from the corner of her eye, as she teaches them one of the most beloved songs of her childhood _._

-

“Don’t rock the boat, Henri,” Ilse yells, “you’re going to turn us over! And Astrid and Margit don’t know how to swim!” 

“This is just shallow water, we’ll be fine!” He doesn’t stop, and Johann joins in as well. 

It _is_ shallow water, but Yoohyeon holds on to Margit and Astrid, the smallest ones who don’t know how to swim. “Boys,” Yoohyeon admonishes as firmly as she can, “stop that. We’ll get drenched.” 

Henri grins at her, and she sighs, but his eyes flicker to see over Yoohyeon’s shoulder. “Yubin!” He looks to his siblings. “She’s back!” 

They’re excited, and that’s what topples over the boat, Yoohyeon gripping Astrid and Margit and holding them above the cold river water that rises up to Yoohyeon’s waist. 

The children laugh and play, wading towards the stairs that lead to the house, dripping in their clothing, and Yoohyeon’s heart drops at the sight of the stormy expression on Yubin’s face — so similar to the first time they had met, at the ballroom inside the house. 

“It’s supposed to be class hours,” she says, quietly, but it still shakes Yoohyeon’s core with nervous energy. “I want an explanation as to why they are not studying.” 

“Their teacher called off classes today,” she explains, “I wanted them to see the river.” 

Before Yubin can reply, the children - previously lined up - see two sharply-dressed women emerge from inside the house, breaking their formation to rush over to them in a flurry of _Aunt Siyeon! Aunt Bora!_

Bora, a beautiful woman, daughter of the Korean ambassador in Austria, has her clothes - and Siyeon’s, too - dirtied by the children. She doesn’t mind, it seems, because the smile that graces her face can rival the sun. “You little chicks are drenched,” Bora laughs, holding them close, not even caring the expensive clothes she wore were damp and dirty. 

Siyeon, a renowned musical maestro in most Austrian universities, also has her dress suit ruined when the boys tackle her, sending her a few steps back. “We missed you, too, little ones.” 

“Make a change of clothes,” Yubin orders sharply, cutting through the tender moment. “We will speak later.” 

Siyeon and Bora share a look before ushering the children inside, leaving Yoohyeon with Yubin’s quiet, potent anger. 

“Miss Yoohyeon,” she begins, “if you simply cannot follow the rules I set in this house for their own good then I see no reason for you to stay.” 

That sparks a fit of anger she doesn’t understand, bubbling to the surface. “They _do_ follow your rules, and the older ones know that sometimes it’s for their own good but the younger ones don’t always. You don’t explain to them why. And today was an exception. Did you have any specific rule for days with no school?” she replies, her voice a little bit louder than usual when she speaks to Yubin, who says nothing. “But you can’t always live by the rules. They’re children, Yubin. Let them be children while they are.” 

“Don’t you dare tell me how to raise them,” is what Yubin says when she finds the words. 

“Maybe if you raised them like how you would have wanted your parents to,” Yoohyeon’s voice breaks, and she hates it, but she continues. “Because God in heaven knows that I do.”

Yubin stares at her, shell-shocked. That’s when Yoohyeon realizes what she’s said. The guilt replaces the anger, and she hates herself that she’s ruined this one good thing for herself and the children. “Yubin, I…” 

With her jaw set and her eyes filled with anger and annoyance, Yubin opens her mouth and Yoohyeon knows this is over, that she’ll be packing her things and return to the abbey, to be sent away again to figure things out elsewhere. 

No one wants to keep her, and the hurt in her chest feels like shards of glass closing in. _Maybe for good reason._

The singing, however, coming from inside the house stops Yubin from speaking, from sending Yoohyeon away. 

_The hills are alive, with the sound of music…_

Yubin turns away, walking inside the home, following the music. The Major watches, from the door, mesmerized as the children sing for Siyeon and Bora, seated in front of them - mirroring the awe on Yubin’s face. 

Yubin hums, and Yoohyeon isn’t surprised she knows the song. The children perfect all the harmonies, and Ilse plays the guitar accompaniment the way they practiced when Ilse doesn’t feel like sleeping. 

Major Lee Yubin, like always, surprises Yoohyeon. She walks in, slowly, joining the song, her voice adding the lowest timbre to the group. Bora and Siyeon look at each other, their hands linked, and the children watch Yubin sing the rest of the song with such wonder and adoration. 

Yoohyeon doesn’t know how Yubin misses the fact that these seven children adore her. 

When Yubin sings the last note, her voice angelic in a way that Yoohyeon never would have expected, that her eyes sting. As soon as it’s over, the children barrel towards her - their clothes dry, but their hair damp. 

“We're sorry, Yubin,” they apologize in chorus. The younger ones don’t even know what they’re apologizing for, the poor things. 

Bora and Siyeon clap. “How am I not surprised that you can _also_ sing,” Siyeon says, clapping a hand over Yubin’s back. “You can do everything Lee Yubin. Goodness.” 

The scene is intimate, and Yoohyeon feels like an outsider. She watches the scene unfold, but it’s too much. Did she still have a place here? Yubin had wanted to send her away only moments ago. 

Yoohyeon turns away, ready to pack her bags, but Yubin calls out to her. 

“Miss Yoohyeon,” she says, and Yoohyeon stops at the doorway. It’s only when Yubin repeats her name that she turns back. “Yoohyeon.” 

She does, and everyone in the room watches her. The children, without saying anything, begging her to not leave. 

There’s an openness in Yubin’s eyes she has never seen before, one that Yoohyeon realizes she likes. 

“Stay,” Yubin says, quietly, as she does everything. And, like always, it imprints in Yoohyeon’s heart. 

Yoohyeon finds no hesitation, finds that maybe this had been what she was looking for when she left the abbey, and says yes. 


End file.
